


Shipping Drabbles

by elenathehun



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, Alternate Universe - Shadowrun Fusion, Children, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Dates, Honeypot Traps, Mercenaries, Multi, Robbery, Sharing a Bed, Shipping, Teenagers, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Unrequited Love, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2017-09-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 08:24:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 11,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8742286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenathehun/pseuds/elenathehun
Summary: Prompt fills for the last shipping ask meme I ran on my blog.Update 9/6/2017: Chapter 12: "Teach me how to play?" Shikaku, to Minato.Chapter 13: "Wanna bet?" Tsunade, to Madara.





	1. #36, Hashirama/Mito, "I wish I could hate you."

**Author's Note:**

  * For [crowind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowind/gifts), [Roadkill2580](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roadkill2580/gifts), [Red_Hot_Holly_Berries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Red_Hot_Holly_Berries/gifts), [Cassandras_Dream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassandras_Dream/gifts), [puzzle_shipper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/puzzle_shipper/gifts), [yaoifangirl18](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yaoifangirl18).



“Sometimes, I really wish I could hate you.”

Sitting beside her at the dinner table, Hashirama’s spoon slowed and then stopped on the way to his mouth. Unusual for her husband - he was always so ravenous when he came home, a big man with a big appetite. It was almost impossible to speak of the household’s business until he’d had something to eat. Generally, Mito was willing to wait until he was ready to listen, but in this case…she couldn’t. She needed to speak to him now.

“Oh, I have your attention now, do I?” Mito asked in an arch tone. "As I was saying, I wish I could hate you.“ 

"Oh?” he said with feigned disinterest. finally laying his spoon down to rest. Alas, she knew all his tells - his lips were pressed together firmly, and his fingers trembled imperceptibly. He thought he had an inkling of the trap she was about to spring on him; that made it all the better since Mito _knew_ he didn’t.

“Well, if I hated you, perhaps the village children would _also_ make up clever little ditties about how much I yearn for your attention. After all, I do so hate to be shown up by an Uchiha-”

“What.”

“-Maybe if I tried to stab you a few times, the true extent of my feelings could become-”

_“What.”_

“-clear! After all, what is hate but a really _pure_ , condensed form of love?”

Mito’s mother had always told her that she was just like a housecat; she enjoyed playing with her food far too much. Mito had taken great offense to that as a girl, but now, looking upon Hashirama’s ashen face and turbulent gaze…well, there might have been a more than a grain of truth to the observation. Mito waited another moment for her dear husband to gather his thoughts, such as they were. Sure enough, just one more moment had him-

“Mito, please tell me that all the village children aren’t crudely speculating on the nature of my friendships,” Hashirama said with despair - or at least, Mito thought he did. It was a bit hard to tell, given how muffled he was from talking through his hands.

“Oh, all the village children aren’t speculating on your friendships, dear,” Mito said with a low laugh. "Just the one you have with Uchiha Madara.“

Hashirama sighed once again, rubbing his face with the palms of his hands. "Please, _please_ tell me this hasn’t gotten back to the Uchiha, you know they take his dignity far too seriously…”

“Oh, never fear, my love,” Mito purred, resting one hand on his silk-clad shoulder. "I’m sure with a little effort we can create some other news to overtake this little scandal. After all, it’s not every day that the leader of the only hidden village in the world is told he’s expecting his first child.“

As expected, Hashirama’s reaction was both absurd and exuberant; also as expected, he never quite forgave her for using _Madara_ to break the news.

Mito regrets _nothing_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](https://elenathehun.tumblr.com/post/153768859290/no-36-hashimito-for-the-pairing-drabble-meme)


	2. #1, Madara/Tobirama, "Come over here and make me."

“I think I’m going to need you to start from the top,” Mother said with a puzzled frown. "Because this report you turned into is mostly illegible, and the parts I can read don’t make a single bit of sense.“

Madara felt the tic below his right eye start pulsing and he gritted his teeth.

“I’m not sure what there is to say,” he said. "There was a mission, it went poorly, and I was unable to complete the mission objective.“

Mother just looked at him, right in the eyes - and after a few minutes of their impromptu staring contest, Madara gave in and started, as requested, from the beginning…

* * *

The temple in the king’s capital dedicated to the Sage of the Six Paths didn’t look like much compared to its brother temples in Lightning Country or even in Stone. It was built of rough-hewn wood and plastered with lime, and the monastery attached to it was one where the brothers took an oath of poverty and silence upon dedication. But unlike the other temples, it had the largest library dedicated to _ninshuu_ on the continent, and it was that library that was Madara’s mission objective - or rather, selected scrolls within related to elemental _ninshuu_ , scrolls the Uchiha did not yet have in their possession.

The security on the library was both impressively strong and impressively esoteric - just navigating the maze of explosive seals set into the roof had taken-

* * *

“I’m sorry, did you say _explosive seals_?” Madara’s mother said in disbelief. "Please tell me that’s a joke, the bishop outlawed their use three decades ago!“

"Yeah, for _shinobi_ ,” Madara said darkly. "I guess they carved out an exception for themselves. Now, where was I? That’s right-“

* * *

-just navigating the maze of explosive seals set into the roof had taken over an hour, and that didn’t take into account the more traditional traps set within the upper floors. But Madara finally made it to the inner sanctum of the library, where the most dangerous and most valuable scrolls were kept. It was pitch black inside, but that was no impediment to the power of the Sharingan, which could use even the faintest chakra imprints left on the scrolls to navigate by.

Madara ghosted past shelves and shelves of scrolls - first the section on seals, then the section on summoning, and then, finally, the section on the powers of nature. He stopped there, ready to start sorting through the scrolls, and then came to his first real roadblock: someone had already ransacked the section.

Well, "ransack” might be too strong a word. But someone had very definitely already been through the scrolls - the traps and alarms laid into the shelving had been disabled, and the scrolls themselves had been quite efficiently sorted through, judging from the disturbance in their dust jackets. Madara noted four - no, five - gaps in the scrolls, and with a growing sense of horror, he noted the scrolls missing were exactly the scrolls he’d come to find: The Greater Scroll of Storms, the Lesser Scroll of Small Mountains, Guangli’s Treatise on the Nature of Fire… every single scroll had been taken! Only the third book on the nature of Flame and Tingfeng’s paper positing lightning as a subset of fire still remained.

* * *

“Well, at least you were able to bring those home, so the mission wasn’t a total failure,” Mother sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Any idea when the library was looted? It can’t have been too many days before your arrival, or our scouts would have noticed something in town before the mission.“

"Oh, I haven’t even gotten to the best part,” Madara said, smiling mirthlessly.

* * *

Madara wasted another few minutes fruitlessly searching for the missing scrolls, but eventually had to give it up as a lost cause. He then had to spend another hour carefully moving past the security on the upper levels, all the while remaining alert for the odd passing monk. But his exit was as peaceful as his entrance - at least until he managed to get back onto the roof. There, under the night sky, Madara met a figure out of a tale: a creature sheathed in black armor, wearing the snarling visage of _Bai Hu_ -

* * *

“In other words, you met a good-looking man wearing a tiger mask,” Mother said, a hint of an edge to her voice. 

Madara flushed despite himself before scowling at her ferociously. "You haven’t let me finish!“

"Yes, yes, I forgot,” Mother sighed in resignation. "At this point, I’m sure the ending will be good.“

“And how can a masked man be good-looking?! I certainly didn’t say that!”

* * *

As he’d said, the other man was wearing black armor and a tiger mask, a hood covering his hair. The only hint to his identity that Madara could see was his chakra (for or course, Madara had not yet deactivated his eyes). The man in the tiger mask had a truly enormous amount, more than almost anyone he’d ever seen; there could only be a few people on the continent with that amount - and unless Madara missed his guess (and he didn’t, not about these sort of things) it was almost entirely water oriented. And secured to his back-

"I wasn’t expecting a fellow robber on this night,” the man in the tiger mask said in a mild tone. Madara marked that his voice was sort of generic - that is, he didn’t sound particularly foreign in any particular way. That was important because the capital was roughly 200 miles from the Uchiha home, and Madara had a hell of a time understanding the way people spoke here.

“Neither was I,” Madara countered. "Let alone someone with the exact same taste in books.“

The other man laughed before settling back onto his heels. "Well, isn’t that cute. If this is your roundabout way of asking if I’m the person who robbed the library earlier, then…yes. That’s me. I couldn’t resist the lure of rare books, sadly." 

Madara tried to smile, although it probably came out more as a baring of his teeth. "There were quite a few books on the nature of water back in the library, Tiger- _san_ ; I’m a little confused over why you would need books regarding fire instead. Why don’t your just hand them over to me? I promise I’ll recompense you accordingly.”

The man in the tiger mask stilled for just a moment before leaning forward ever so slightly. "An interesting offer, but one I’ll have to pass on; you see, I already own all the same books as this Temple, at least regarding water _ninshuu_ , but my library regarding Fire is sadly lacking. I think I’ll take them home as I originally planned.“

Madara finally let the false smile fall from his face, letting a snarl crawl across it instead. "Then I think we have a problem, Tiger-san. Give me those books, and I’ll let you live; deny me, and you die.”

“God, the _unmitigated gall_ of you Uchiha, it’s unbelievable,” he man in the tiger mask sneered. "You want me to give up these scrolls? Why don’t you come over here and _make me_?“

* * *

”…and at that point, the man in the tiger mask managed to set off an explosive seal beneath my feet, leading to a chain reaction with the neighboring seals, which led to the roof of the temple blowing sky high in less than 45 seconds,“ Mother said, reciting verbatim from the end of Madara’s report. "Honestly, how did you manage to survive?”

“You sound a little _too_ unconcerned with my potential death by explosion,” Madara sniped.

Mother just rolled her eyes. "You’re alive, and sitting right in front of me, albeit with the horrible scent of burnt hair. By the way, get a haircut later, I don’t care how much you hate it when it’s short, I am _not_ suffering through this scent a moment longer than possible.“

Madara just huffs at her, the universal language of put-upon sons.

Anyway, how did you manage to get out that mess?” she asked again, cheek against palm.

“I jumped,” Madara said, shrugging. "It was a hard landing, but what else was I supposed to do?“

There was a long pause, and then the room was filled with the soft sound of his mother’s laughter. 

"So that was the mission,” Madara said with finality. "The man in the tiger mask escaped in all the ruckus, but I have a feeling he’ll be back - and when he does, _I’ll be ready_.“

His mother just laughs even harder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](https://elenathehun.tumblr.com/post/153814643585/madatobi-come-over-here-and-make-me).


	3. #33, Izuna/Mito, "Please don't do this."

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Izuna demands, grasping at Mito’s singed sleeves. The burnt silk crumbles in his grip, leaving him with only ashes in his hands, but it does the job: Mito stops walking away from him. "If you go out there, you’ll die!“

"I don’t go out, we’ll die anyway,” Mito replies, the arch of one fine red eyebrow twitching in displeasure as she ties what remains of her sleeves back, never mind her long hair blowing in the wind. “We’re in the midst of an apocalyptic battle between the forces of good and evil, and as it happens, good isn’t winning. I can do more good on the front lines than off.”

“You may be the foremost seal master in the world,” Izuna grits out, his jaw clenched so tightly his teeth hurt. "But that won’t do you any good against that _thing_ Hashirama is creating from his forest. And the Kyuubi-“

”-is in need of aid, which I will give to him,“ Mito says impatiently. "Don’t underestimate the power of seals, Izuna; it protected my home for near a decade, while you and yours wandered in the wastelands.”

“That’s not the point,” he snaps in exasperation. 

“Then what is the point?” she sneered at him, something wild and fierce blazing in her maroon eyes, and Izuna just feels so _angry_ with her. "Stop dancing around and come out with it!“

"The point is that I’m in love with you, and I don’t want to see you die,” he shouts back, grabbing her by the shoulders. " _So please don’t do this_.“

Mito’s mouth twists unhappily for just a moment before returning to the usual neutral position; Izuna’s heart sinks within his chest, but, well…he’d always known that the chances of his feeling being returned were low. But to let Mito go to her death without ever telling her-!

No, he could have no regrets.

Suddenly, Izuna feels his wrists encircled by a firm, callused grip, and he looks down to see Mito has grasped his hands within her own. When he looks back at her face, more than a little surprised, he is flabbergasted to see her directing a sweet, wry smile at him. He’s never seen her smile at him before; he’s never seen her smile at all.

"Come with me,” she says. "Come with me, and at least we can fight together instead of apart.“ 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](https://elenathehun.tumblr.com/post/153851589200/izumito-please-dont-do-this)


	4. #47, Izuna/Mito, "No one needs to know."

Ultimately, the Lady Mito is the perfect mark. Young, beautiful, headstrong… and married to a man who took her presence for granted as he gallivanted across the continent braying about peace. The sort of rumors that circulated about the exact nature of Hashirama and Madara’s close friendship…well, Izuna could do without them and the insult they represented, but they made Izuna’s work all the easier. How many women had his kind, sympathetic mask lured in over the years, angry their husband had spurned them for another? Too many.

(There is an element of revenge to this: Hashirama has entranced Izuna’s beloved brother, so Izuna will steal Hashirama’s wife. Fair is fair, no?)

* * *

At first, it all seems to go so well. Izuna represents the Uchiha on the Village Council whenever Madara is away from the village (and often when he was in the village, besides); the Lady Mito was a regular attendee, at her husband’s side or alone. She was reserved, at first; no doubt she’d been raised on stories of the barbaric Uchiha. But little by little, Izuna manages to work his way into becoming, if not her friend, at least a familiar face. 

But even after some months of acquaintanceship, Izuna could make no headway against the iron wall of her impeccable courtesy. He could wrangle no invitations to her home; nor would she consent to meet him outside of business calls. It damnably frustrating, especially given the amount of time he had spent on her thus far. So he sacrifices: Uchiha support behind a Senju proposal for an excise tax to support the village school, all in the hope that such a visible sign of support would induce just a little more trust in him.

(If Izuna doesn’t see her secretive smile the moment after the measure passes, he can be forgiven; Lady Mito’s smiles come and go in an instant, and Izuna’s eyes only see so much.)

* * *

“Lord Izuna,” she murmurs to him a week later. "I was so pleased with your support of the school tax during the last meeting.“

“My lady, it was my pleasure,” Izuna says, smiling at her in his most charming, elegant manner. “Your statement advocating for the measure was quite persuasive.”

“You are too kind, sir,” she demurs, but Izuna sees the glint of satisfaction in her maroon eyes. Yes, supporting her in a personal triumph - that had been a sacrifice of Uchiha prestige well-spent. "But I realized, afterward, that we have not spent much time conversing outside the bounds of business, and I thought it might be time to correct that.“

Izuna’s heart leaps with triumph in his chest, but he’s too good at the game to let his true emotions show. Instead, he hesitates, just enough for her to come to her own conclusions.

"I understand your family might not approve, given our history,” Mito says in an understanding tone. "But I promise, no one needs to know.“

"I think that would be best for now, my lady,” Izuna muttered, letting her glimpse a bit of relief on his face. Mito, he now saw, fancied himself her _protector_ ; yet another Uchiha for the Senju to “reform”. The insult burned, but as long as that impulse gave him access to her company, he would take full advantage of it. Soon, he would be dictating the terms of their relationship, and then…then the real work could begin.

(If Izuna _listened_ , he might know to be wary, but the famed eyes of the Uchiha have always been an impediment to seeing underneath the underneath.) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> original post [here](https://elenathehun.tumblr.com/post/153900508920/izumito-no-one-needs-to-know)


	5. #15, Hashirama/Mito, "So I found this waterfall..."

“That could have gone better,” Mito murmurs as she watches the last of the Clan representatives leave De'an, surveying them from atop that city’s famed walls. One of the figures on the ground turns back for a bare instant - from the armor, most probably one of the many, many Akimichi daughters the current Clan head had brought with him as bodyguards, all of them, tall, plump, and packing a mean right hook.

“I don’t know, it could have gone a whole lot worse, too,” Sasuke says from his position beside her, shading his eyes with his right hand as he surveys the horizon. "No one died. No one even got maimed! You need to be more positive, Mito.“

"I think you and I have vastly different conceptions of _better_ and _worse_ ,” Mito says dryly. "I would prefer to see more actual progress towards a workable treaty, rather than this endless talking in circles we seem trapped in.“

"Small steps, Mito,” Sasuke chides with laughing eyes. "It’s not our parents who will make the peace, but us.“

Mito just wrinkled her nose at the older nin. "Stop pretending to be cool,” Mito says. "You’ve been acting strange this whole meeting. Lord Sarutobi isn’t here, you know, you don’t have to act the perfect heir in front of me.“

It’s only after the words leave her mouth that Mito realizes how awful that sounds. Sasuke was only declared the Sarutobi heir six months ago; reminding him of his unexpected and unwanted ascension is cruel, even by Mito’s thoughtless standards. There’s a long, awkward pause before Sasuke breathes out a heavy sigh and reaches a hand out to grasp at her shoulder.

"You know, Mito, I’m glad you’ve got such a terrible personality,” Sasuke says drolly. "It means I don’t have to feel bad blocking your escape from your most determined paramour.“

"I beg your pardon?” Mito snaps, reflexively jerking her head around, only to realize she’s far, far too late.

“There you are, Mito,” a tall, gangly figure shouts from the base of the wall. "I’ve been looking all over for you!“

Hashirama has found her.

* * *

"So where, exactly, are we going?” Mito finally asks a half hour later. It’s strange, but somehow, someway, Hashirama _always_ manages to persuade her to come with him on an adventure. It was his secret power, even more than the Mokuton.

“I found this waterfall outside of the city,” Hashirama replies, dark eyes limpid and sincere. "It looked really cool, I thought you would like to see it too!“

Mito sighed. Of course he did. "And how much further is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know…another three miles or so?" 

And this, right here, was the reason Mito hated getting suckered into these "adventures” by Hashirama. They _always_ become more complicated than it was worth. 

“Then why aren’t we chakra-running?” she snaps in exasperation. "Walking there and back like a civilian will take _hours_.“

"Chakra-running?” Hashirama says blankly. "What’s that?“

Rather than answer, Mito just grabs Hashirama’s hand with her own and starts running, first at a jog, then speeding up. By the time Mito starts running on the trees, Hashirama has picked up the trick of it - which is good, because Mito has no idea how to teach something every shinobi on the island learned by the age of _five_. Not for the first time, Mito thinks continental nin have strange gaps in their training…

"Mito, this is _amazing_!” he calls to her with a brilliant smile, and almost despite herself, Mito grins back. 

Three miles is nothing when traveling this way, and soon enough, Hashirama is tugging her over the crest of a hill before coming to a stop, the waterfall right in front of them. It’s…nice. Nothing to get excited about, at least not to someone who has grown up in the shadow of Uzushio’s cliffs. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Hashirama asks eagerly. Mito looks up at his hopeful, open face. Eight months ago, he’d still been shorter than her, but now he’s a half-foot taller, with no signs of stopping. He’s still got the round face of a child, though. Mito thinks she will miss it when it finally goes. 

“It’s great, Hashirama,” she responds quietly, and his face - no, his whole demeanor - just lights up like a flame to a candle’s wick. "I’m really glad you brought me here.“

"I just knew you’d like it,” he breathes out, and squeezes her hand gently within his own. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original post [here](https://elenathehun.tumblr.com/post/154002310500/hashimito-so-i-found-this-waterfall)


	6. #24, Kagami/Danzou, "You're the only one I trust to do this."

In the spring of their fourteenth year, Squad 17 went insane. Koharu (of all people!) managed to convince Hatake Shusake to go out with her, and that set off both of her teammates into a competitive romantic frenzy. Homura immediately began the search for an eligible young lady - _any_ eligible young lady - who would consent to step out with him, while Hiruzen set his sights comparatively higher, on the one girl utterly unimpressed by his many talents, the indefatigable Arita Biwako.

It was, as the entirety of Squad 20 agreed, the funniest thing they’d seen since the great Monkey Calamity of two springs ago.

“You know, I don’t think I ever properly appreciated Biwako’s amazing aim when we were in school together,” Kagami said admiringly as Hiruzen bonelessly slumped to the ground. He peered over the edge of the rooftop he was squatting on to check on the other boy and saw him twitch involuntarily in the middle of the road as the girl in question serenely walked away. 

“I’m more impressed with her recipe for paralytic agents,” Danzō murmured by his side. "Have you ever seen Hiruzen get taken out so quickly? I might open negotiations myself if she brings skills like that to the table.“

On Kagami’s other side, Torifu huffed. "Yeah, but what would you bring, Danzō? Aside from your sparkling wit and personality, of course.”

Danzō drew in a furious breath, ready as always to end any fight someone started with him. Kagami, well-versed in the many and varied rages of Shimura Danzō, elbowed him in the kidneys right as he opened his mouth to start in on their teammate. "Hey, heads up, guys - I think Torifu’s sister is coming our way, and she’s looking a little too excited by the fact that Hiruzen is lying helpless on the ground…“ 

Torifu swore. "I’ll go rescue him; she’s been pissed since the last mission they took together, something about his total lack of decorum or something,” he grunted before jumping into the street.

Kagami elbowed Danzō again for good measure; he didn’t have to look at Danzō to know that the other boy’s eyes were gleaming at the chance at access to Hiruzen when the Sarutobi heir was defenseless, and he knew better than most at how good Danzō was at seals. Best case scenario had Hiruzen grunting like an ape until his teammates could figure out a way to nullify the seals on his throat - the worst case scenario had the other boy in traction for the next month, and Danzō in the stockade for far longer.

“Kagami,” Danzō said into his ear, voice raspy and low. Kagami flinched, just as Danzō had planned, the bastard, and turned to look at him. His teammate’s face was too near to Kagami’s, close enough that he could see the weird little cowlick in Danzō’s right eyebrow. 

“What the hell is up with you lately?” he hissed quietly. He didn’t back away - backing away from Danzō was giving him _carte blanche_ to torment you, and Kagami had no desire to suffer through that torment. Instead, he set his mouth in a firm line and stared Danzō right back in his uncanny hazel eyes. 

Danzō merely smiled a little, putting a hand on Kagami’s shoulder. "You’re the only one I trust to do this,“ he said cryptically, and before Kagami could question him, Danzō leaned in and pressed his lips to Kagami’s own.

For one shocked moment, Kagami could only process that Danzō’s lips were dry and chapped and _totally unappealing_ to kiss in general, and right before he gathered his faculties and readied his fists to clock the other boy _right in the face_ , Danzō jumped back, still grinning, and waved goodbye before leaping onto the neighboring roof. Kagami just blinked at the uncharacteristic retreat.

“What the hell was that?” he asked weakly. He’d known Danzō since he was six years old, but that…that had totally come out of the blue. 

“Wow, are you and Danzō _dating_?!?" 

Kagami blinked, and turned around. Behind him was Torifu, looking fairly gobsmacked himself, and over his shoulder was Hiruzen, eyes wide.

"Congratulations!” he slurred out, a soppy smile on his face even as his legs twitched some more. 

And suddenly, Kagami realized _exactly_ what the hell Danzō was playing at.

“You should go after him,” Hiruzen suggested helpfully, drooling a bit on Torifu’s shoulder. "Danzō is awfully shy about stuff like that.”

Kagami took a single moment to just stare at Hiruzen in disbelief, before meeting Torifu’s eyes and seeing the unspoken agreement that Hiruzen, for all his book smarts, had obviously been dropped on his head as a child or something.

“Yeah,” Kagami replied curtly. "I’m gonna do that. Torifu is going to watch you until you can walk, OK, Hiruzen? I’ll see you later, good luck with Biwako.“

 _That little bastard,_ Kagami thought as he leaped off the roof and began following Danzō’s trail. He felt an angry flush start creeping up his cheeks. _I’m going to beat him ‘til he’s black and blue all over!_


	7. #40, Madara/Tobirama, “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?",

Trade shows were the absolute _worst_ , and if Tobirama could foist the responsibility for attending every single of one of them onto his brother, he would - the Sage alone knew that Hashirama, despite everything, somehow managed to charm the socks off every damn client and sub-contracter this side of the Western Seas - but as the newly promoted COO of Senju Security, he had to make an appearance at this, the first conference of the season, and reassure the public that the company was in good hands with the recent change in leadership. Well, he'd come, he'd given a reasonably well-received speech on integrating traditional small troop formations with cyber support in retaking hostile urban areas, and if he managed to get through another six hours of this nonsense, he could slip away on "business" during the usual rounds of evening parties. Hashirama wouldn't notice for _hours_ , and by then, Tobirama would be long gone, preferably joining Kawarama on a last minute reconnaissance mission in Rain's borders.

"My, that's an angry face," a low, hoarse voice commented from his left. 

"Hatake, always a pleasure," Tobirama said steadily, not breaking pace. As expected of the woman, she fell into step at his side, long rangy legs easily keeping pace. Hatake Mitsuru had proven herself quite stubborn and unexpectedly competent in the years he'd known her, especially given the aura of lackadaisical disinterest she aggressively projected. She'd appeared at trade shows and conventions, gate-crashed at least three _extremely_ private client meetings, and once, memorably enough, showed up in the middle of a mission gone terribly wrong on the always-fluid border between Fire and Lightning - and that wasn't counting the dozen-and-a-half times he'd hired her for business reasons. Tobirama was fond of her, as far as sub-contractors went, but sometimes she could be a bit much. 

"Now, now, I think we're on familiar enough terms that you can call me by my first name, Tobirama," she murmured, no louder than a whisper in the crowd. He glanced at her between one step and the next, only to confirm she looked the same as she always did: a tall woman with fair hair worn loose and lazy dark eyes. She was wearing a surgical mask, one of many odd affectations she'd had as long as he had known her. She always wore casual clothing, and she was _always_ soft-spoken, which was a pleasant change from most of the bounty hunters he'd hired over the years. The Inuzuka couple, for instance, never seemed to change out of camo gear and always spoke at a volume only a little less than a full yell.

"Mmm," Tobirama said, noncommittal.

"Ah, so that's how it's going to be," Mitsuru replied, a mocking lilt in her voice. "Are you still upset I turned down the chance to go with your crew to the Canyonlands? Because I told you at the time, I was busy with another job. I know Settan and Taya are loud, but they're better suited for rural tracking, anyway."

Tobirama shrugged one shoulder minutely. "Nothing of the kind, Mitsuru, it's just been a long day and-"

"-and it's about to get _even longer_!" another voice shouted from a corridor ahead of them. "That's right, Senju - you've heard the news by now, I'm sure: my company just won the contract on the President's security detail. Run back to Hashirama and perhaps reconsider your sales strategy in the future - the Sage knows you'll need to, with all the business you've been losing, lately."

This second interruption came from a man, one clearly used to having his way, at least judging from the strident tone in his voice. Tobirama immediately lengthened his stride. He recognized that voice too, and unlike Mitsuru, he had no desire to ever engage in conversation with the person currently speaking. He'd long been familiar with Madara Uchiha - it was hard not to, when your companies were direct competitors, and had been since their respective founders had suffered a falling-out decades before. But even if that hadn't been their shared history, Tobirama was sure he would have despised Madara anyway, for the other man was loud, abrasive, and honestly quite obnoxious. Why Hashirama continued to insist the other man wasn't so bad was quite beyond Tobirama's faculties.

For a moment, Tobirama held out hope that Madara would leave well enough alone and ignore him after heckling him in passing, but no such luck. Instead, as Tobirama and Mitsuru walked by the intersection, Madara intercepted them, walking backwards in front of Tobirama, all the better to taunt him. Of course Madara couldn't leave well enough alone; when had he ever? Tobirama saw the other man looked the same as he always did: impeccably dressed in a gray suit, tie forsworn for a unbuttoned shirt collar and suit jacket thrown over his left shoulder. His hair was even longer and more unruly than usual, falling over his right eye and cascading over his broad shoulders.

"What, cat got your tongue, Senju?" Madara taunted, visible eye narrowed in unholy glee. "You know, I told your brother that you required more seasoning before he promoted you - it's a shame he didn't listen..." 

Tobirama considered three different ways of incapacitating Madara with his own hair before discarding them as too disruptive. No, better to find some other way to rid himself of this pest- 

"Is it just me, or does this guy get even more ridiculous every time I see him?" Mitsuru wondered aloud, and Tobirama felt a tiny smile curl the corners of his mouth as Madara made a hilarious, put-upon face. "I mean, what kind of idiot wears dress shoes without socks?"

"The kind of idiot who wants to look suave, but fails to see he comes off as a buffoon instead," Tobirama responded slyly in turn, and Madara sputtered in rage.

"Oh, so he's _that_ kind of guy," Mitsuru drawled, not bothering to keep her voice down. Some of the passing crowd was beginning to slow and stop, always ready to see yet another verbal battle between Tobirama and Madara; Madara's visible eye kept twitching away from Tobirama towards the crowd, always antsy at public attention he hadn't carefully corralled. "The dumb kind of guy."

Madara flushed, from the bridge of his nose all the way down his neck. Tobirama eyed that unbuttoned collar for one long moment, idly wondering exactly how far down his chest the other man was flushing, before tipping his eyes back up and meeting Madara's infuriated gaze. Then, he _smiled_.

Madara blanched as he came to a sudden halt, blinking once, twice, thrice in surprise. Tobirama simply smiled wider. It was a nice smile - at least, Mother had always told him so. No one had ever run screaming from it. Well, no one had ever run screaming from it _yet_ \- it looked as though Madara might be the first.

"Have I entered an alternate universe, or did you really just crack a smile for me?" Madara asked, totally unnerved. At Tobirama's side, Mitsuru broke out into wild, unrefined guffaws, forcing Tobirama to stop and support her before she fell over.

"Oh, not _for_ you, Madara," Tobirama chided mildly. "Never that."

And then Tobirama serenely walked away, Mitsuru half hanging off his shoulder as they went. Tobirama kept half an eye out, just in case Madara decided to try his luck again, but apparently the other man was sufficiently discombobulated by the whole experience that wasn't willing to dare Tobirama's smile again. Either that, or he was still puzzling through the insult Tobirama had offered him. It might take him awhile to figure it out. Madara, after all, was stubborn, but not exactly clever.

"So what, exactly, are you planning?" Mitsuru asked in her raspy low voice, still bursting out into chuckles every moment or two. "Because I've seen that look on your face before, and it's usually a good time for all."

"You're the only person in the world who would say that," Tobirama said dryly, directing the woman through the crowd towards the street exit. Come to think of it, a tracker would be useful out in the bush, and Tobirama knew from previous experience that Mitsuru and Kawarama got on well. 

"Most people don't know how to have a good time," she agreed wryly, raking her hair off her face. "Aren't you lucky you know me?"

"Kawarama says that all the time," Tobirama agreed with no small degree of sarcasm in his voice. "As for the party I'm planning... are you aware that Uchiha Surveillance Services were terminated from their contract with Uzumaki Corporation three weeks ago?"

"No, I wasn't," Mitsuru murmured, eyebrows raised. "Although it doesn't surprise me. Madara has such a _nice_ personality, after all."

Tobirama laughed once before stifling it. "Then you probably won't be surprised to hear that the source of the breach was reportedly deep, irreconciable personal differences between Madara and the Uzumaki heir?"

"It wouldn't surprise me," Mitsuru said with a diffident shrug of her shoulders.

"Lastly, were you aware that I managed to finagle an invitation for Hashirama to attend the Uzumaki holiday party three weeks from now?"

Underneath the mask, Mitsuru was grinning so widely her eyes were half closed. A full, rich laugh erupted from her throat.

"Oh, Tobirama, you really are a bastard in _all_ the best ways!"

 

* * *

_Two months later..._

"...Uzumaki Corporation's share price just surged today after word leaked that Senju Security would begin augmenting the corporation's already formidable internal security. This comes just weeks after the former chairman's daughter took control of the company after her father's unexpected retire-"

The television abruptly turned off, leaving Madara brooding in silence.

"Madara, why do you even care about this?" Izuna asked in aggravation, and Madara just grunted at him in response. "Our margins were always pretty slim on that contract - if the Senju want to deal with Mito, let them!"

"It's not that," Madara said impatiently, raking his hair back into a messy ponytail before pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's the fact that Tobirama has _won_ that irritates me."

"Oh, god," Izuna murmurs with dread. "Please tell me you aren't going to try and get back at him for some kind of imagined slight."

"It's not an imagined slight!" Madara snapped on reflex. "And there is no way in hell I'm letting that albino bastard get the better of me. Find out when he gets back in country...and get Harogomo on the line, I'm gonna need his help."

Izuna just signed heavily and rubbed his face with his palms. "Oh, Sage save us all from dumbass brothers with a grudge..."

("You know, I'm not sure I'd qualify Madara's feelings as a 'grudge" as this point," Saburo said, _sotto voce_ , to his brother, careful not to draw Izuna or Madara's attention.

"Ugh, I really don't want to think about it," Shiro complained, frown creasing his brow. "And Goro is _way_ too young to hear this."

"Too young to hear about what?" Goro asked, lifting his eyes away from his phone. Saburo and Shiro looked at Goro, then at each other, then back to Goro.

"Adult stuff," Shiro advised.

"Worse," Saburo drawled. " _Madara_ stuff."

"Oh, never mind then," Goro muttered in disgust, looking back at his phone. 

Saburo and Shiro surreptitiously traded high-fives. The Talk: successfully averted until Madara's next crisis!)


	8. #18,  Kakashi/Shisui, Nohara Rin, “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

"Can I count on you in this, at least?" Shisui asked, all plaintive eyes and sad little face. His desperation was honestly stomach-turning, even if Rin was damn well aware it was all feigned. The younger merc had a definite gift for play-acting, that was for damn sure, and the Rin of ten years ago might have even been taken in by his intensity and the limpid beauty of his Uchiha countenance. 

"This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in," Kakashi replied, right on cue. In contrast to Shisui, his delivery was a little stiffer, less natural, but Danzō wouldn't know that, and all of this was a play set just for him. Still...something about Kakashi's delivery worried Rin.

 **Is it just me, or was that little too sincere for the bastard?** Obito projected into her HUD suddenly. Rin barely blinked, used to her teammate's unique interruptions after so many years of dealing with them. Rin just clicked her sub-lingual implant twice for acknowledgement/agreement, and peered a little closer at Kakashi's covered face. An outsider wouldn't see it, but Rin had known the other man since he'd and his mangy dogs had stepped out of the mutagenic brambles of the Burnt Forest and guided her and Obito home, so many years before. He did look suspiciously awake and interested in the proceedings...

 _Ugh, you might be right,_ Rin subvocalized, confident that Obito would pick it up. Below her, the street samurai and the druid ran off towards the Buried River, ready to spring their trap on the old bastard at last. _All those romance novels that old adept from the upcountry has been giving him have finally rotted his brain._

**...Maybe it will be good for him?**

Rin didn't reply, preferring to settle down and wait in the trash heaps behind ROOT Labs. Her camo-cloak settled into a mottled grey-on-grey pattern, and Rin suppressed as many of her essential systems as possible. ROOT, as expected of one of the city's greatest and most secretive corporations, hadn't stinted on their security...but there were still flaws. Still little holes for someone like Rin to get through...

**It's go time!**

Rin startled into awareness, heart racing furiously. Just a shot of adrenaline, to bring her out of the minor coma she'd gone into. The sky didn't look much different, but it never did, this close to the ground; too much smog blocking the light. Not for the first time, Rin felt her heart clench for Kakashi, who'd come to the city for her and Obito, but never stopped longing for the wild and empty places of the world.

 _Maybe it will be good for him_ , Rin finally responded, murmuring at a level below human hearing. _Your cousin...well, he's an Uchiha, but he's not totally worthless. Just dumb as a pile of rocks, honestly._

One of the auditory implants in Rin's right ear vibrated for just a split second, and Rin smiled in response. Mocking Obito's large, strange family never failed to get a laugh out of him.

Rin took a minute to survey the ROOT Lab's squat, unassuming main building once more. Whatever they were doing here, it needed an awful lot of fuel and coolant. The last time Rin had seen anything similar, she and Kakashi had been venturing into Orochimaru's deadly lair. Rin still didn't like to think about what they'd found there, and what they'd had to do about it...

We can turn back. The words appear slowly on Rin's HUD, as though Obito is hesitating, of all things. We don't need the files, just Danzo is enough. Kakashi and Shisui can handle that.

Rin just quirked her lips in an unamused smile. The Third had thought that, many years before; the Fourth wouldn't make the same error. Rin blinked twice, wiping the HUD clean, then walked to the door to the maintenance tunnels, not even hesitating as she put her hand on the lockpad and started the handshake procedure. She couldn't turn back; moreover, she didn't want to. Danzō had suborned the surgeon's guild; he'd contaminated the deckers. Shisui was right, silly and impulsive as he was, was correct that it was only a matter of time until Danzō turned his attention to the shadowrunners, and ruined this new home she'd made for herself. The door clicked open, and Rin-

Rin pushed it open with steady hands and stepped into the darkness.


	9. #6, Madara/Tobirama, “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Madara and his team didn’t return to the compound until far into the night - far enough that dawn was closer than the preceding dusk. The compound was as quiet as it ever was, and only Itsuki’s team was on duty, manning the walls on the look-out for any potential intruders. 

“Lord Madara, did your mission go well?“ Itsuki asked perfunctorily as she inspected Madara and the rest of his team visually. 

Madara just shrugged in return, noting that Itsuki’s long dark braid was half-unraveled, the tie having come off sometime in the past. A common sight, with that girl; if she wasn’t fiddling with her hair, she was chewing on her nails or another nervous habit. Her mother was always getting after her for that. 

"So it went all right, but not as well as you hoped,” Itsuki translated with a sardonic twist of her lips. "Either way, welcome home; we’re glad you’ve returned.“

Madara simply sneered at the teenager - fiddling with her hair and constant backtalk, that’s all he ever got from her - before walking through the gates, the other Uchiha nin behind him. The whole group walked past the communal kitchens; one of Masamichi’s boys was busy stoking the fires inside, readying the hearths for the first meal of the day. A few of the younger shinobi split off there, probably to beg some food from Masamichi himself, who was never far from his post. The rest continued on along with Madara on the straight road through the compound. A few more minutes of walking brought them to the bathhouse, and it was there Madara split from his compatriots as they went on ahead. Madara was so tired he might very well fall asleep while soaking; better for him to just go home and sleep, and wash up later. 

Madara’s quarters were near the center of the compound, near the meeting hall and the elder’s rooms. Izuna’s rooms were before his, but the rooms were dark and still as he approached. Izuna was still on the mission to the grasslands, then, else he’d have already awoken to greet his brother. Madara’s own quarters were right next door, and they looked exactly as they had when Madara had left three days before, if a little dustier. Madara wrinkled his nose at the mustiness and reminded himself to scold the maid for not airing it out while he was gone.

Removing his armor went quickly enough, especially since he hadn’t had cause to use it; he put his sheathed sword back on the weapon rack, right next to the war fan his aunt had given him upon his ascension to Clan Head a year before. It was the work of another moment to pull off his clothing; it had been a hard run back, and all of it was stiff with sweat. Madara haphazardly tossed it into his laundry and before walking tiredly over to his futon and crawling under the bedding, already nearly asleep…

Madara barely felt the prick against his neck a moment later. He blinked woozily, chakra already surging beneath his skin to break the genjutsu on his room, but it was far, far too late.

 

* * *

When he came to, he was on his back, still in bed, and Senju Tobirama was perched in his lap, pale skin luminous in the dim light before dawn. Madara knew this because his eyes still worked, and he could see Tobirama was also quite, quite naked, his pale skin inked with hundreds, no, _thousands_ of mysterious seals. Madara had no idea what the seals meant, but he had a decent idea of what they did, given that Tobirama was even now invisible to his mind’s eye.

Madara blinked once, and tried to no avail to move his limbs, activate his Sharingan, anything - nothing. He could feel his body, more or less, but actively controlling it was still beyond him, courtesy of whatever Tobirama had dosed him with. Tobirama only waited, a pale and silent statue with hooded red eyes fixed on Madara’s own.

"Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Madara finally managed to whisper. "Or are the stories of the savage Senju true, and you’ve come to bathe in my heart’s blood before destroying us all?“

Tobirama snorted in disbelief. "Is that what the Uchiha say about us?” he asked rhetorically. "I’ve never heard more ridiculous claptrap in my life.“

"Do you deny you’ve come to kill me like a thief in the night?” Madara responded. "Don’t think you’ll escape ali-“

"First, we’re shinobi, none of us are above assassination as a tactic or strategy,” Tobirama interrupted. "Second, you can rest easy; I didn’t come here to kill you. Unless you force me to, of course.“

"Then why are you here?” Madara hissed nearly silently. His mouth was dry, and his tongue felt thick inside of it.

“I want what my brother wants,” Tobirama stated, tone unexpectedly contemplative. "A place to settle my roots without fear of fire or steel; children born with a life expectancy greater than eight; an end to this useless, wasteful, never-ending war between our clans.“

Tobirama paused here and caught Madara’s eyes with his own, evidently to ensure that he had Madara’s attention. "My brother still thinks of you as a friend, albeit an estranged one; he’d prefer to wait for you to see reason on your own. I am far less patient than my brother, and far more direct: why do you refuse to accept a truce between our families?”

Madara just stared at Tobirama for a long moment, before realizing the other man was waiting for a response. 

“Peace is not possible,” Madara croaked out. "The blood between us runs too deep, and the gap cannot be bridged.“

There was another moment of delicate silence, and then-

"I see. So you’re just _lazy_ ,” Tobirama said thoughtfully, and Madara’s eyes widened with rage. "Well, I can work with that far more than what I thought was the most likely choice-“

"Lazy?!?” Madara spat out uncontrollably. "I always thought you a realist, Senju, but you’re as cracked as Hashirama is you think peace is that easy to build!“

"I think everyone said that to the man who built the first bridge, too,” Tobirama agreed with a smirk and cocked his head with some concentration. "When that delightful girl with the ragged hair comes in, please try and play along.“

And before Madara could even begin to wonder, Tobirama brought his right hand up to the hollows of his throat, and deliberately stroked his chest from neck to sternum before bending down and taking Madara’s mouth in a searing kiss.

_He smeared the seals_ , Madara thought inanely as he felt Tobirama’s enormous, overpowering chakra spun out of his body, exactly like the vortex of a storm. The other man was suddenly visible - more than visible, really - and just as Madara realized he really needed some air, the doors to his quarters slid open with a bang, and Tobirama slowly ended the kiss. 

"I’m sick of being just another secret,” the albino man spat out, some unholy mixture of rage and despair twisting his face into a tragic rictus. Even Madara, who knew damn well this was yet another Senju plot, was taken aback. Were those actual _tears_ in Tobirama’s eyes…?

There was a feminine gasp from the doorway, and Tobirama flinched, exactly as though he was surprised. A blurred motion of his hands, and Madara tensed, unsure of what would follow, but all that occurred was a sensation of the wind - and Tobirama’s abrupt disappearance from the room. There was absolute silence for a moment. Madara laboriously twisted his head around to look at the door, and sure enough, Itsuki was standing in the frame, Sharingan activated and eyes wide. Behind her was Takeichi, the first shift supervisor - that’s right, shift change was always at dawn - and both their squads huddled behind them, fists clenched tight on their swords. And behind them, Madara realized with a sinking feeling, was Masamichi, apron already stained and more than a few of his boys and girls in tow, and yes, two of Madara’s own teammates, still damp from the baths they’d fallen asleep in.

“Holy Amaterasu, mother of us all,” Itsuki said unsteadily. "I think I just saw the unseeable. Someone blind me now.“

And like a dam breaking, everyone else started to talk as they rushed into Madara’s room, and Madara got just an inkling of exactly how _expertly_ they’d all been played. 


	10. #28, Tobirama/Minato, "Marry me!",

Minato doesn’t file out with the others after the briefing ends. He lingers, tidying up at his seat, shuffling papers aimlessly, one eye always on Tobirama. Tobirama, for his part, sighs internally. He’s seventy-eight years old, taught more students than he can easily count, and he already sees the sign of an incipient confession. For a brief moment, he considers making Hashirama stay - it’s a neat way to sidestep the issue, no one ever wants to confess in front of his brother for some reason - but Tobirama’s better nature wins out, and he gives Hashirama a meaningful look before glancing at the exit.

His brother, never one to miss a cue, leaves, although not without a manful effort to suppress a teasing smile.

Once they’re finally alone, Minato finally approaches Tobirama, resolve shining out of his blue eyes. Tobirama feels even older looking at him: was he ever that young and idealistic? Surely not!

“Tobirama,” Minato says, a certain level of composure evident in his voice. Tobirama resists the urge to snap at the boy - it’s all very good for the student to surpass the teacher, and Minato is one of the most gifted of all the students Tobirama has taken over the years, but a little respect-! All that flies at the window with the boy’s next impulsive statement.

“Please, marry me!”

_Sage save me from melodramatic teens!_ Tobirama thinks with exasperation.

Minato, of course, is still staring hopefully at him with his wide blue eyes, warm golden hair framing his face. Tobirama is not above admitting that Minato, with his lean build and fine features, is uncommonly beautiful by any objective standard, and if he were even forty years younger, Tobirama might very well be tempted to accept this most scandalous of proposals. Thirty years ago, a dozen boys and girls just like Minato had propositioned him within the space of six months - some sort of ridiculous craze in that generation, of all things.

That was the year Mito had finally unleashed the bloodthirsty jinchuuriki of the Nanabi, a brutal young woman who had flown with the beast’s wings and spewed acid from above. Tobirama could still remember the red ribbon of her hair, right before Hiruzen, Homura, and Koharu managed to catch her in a firestorm in the sky; he could still see her burning body as she fell to the earth…

Tobirama, in retrospect, has buried far too many children over this lifetime.

“Tobirama?” Minato repeats sweetly, a hopeful look in his eyes. 

“One day, you’ll make someone very happy,” Tobirama replies. "But that day is not today, and that person is not me.“

Minato’s face falls, and he parts his lips in protest, but Tobirama is already walking away. Part of being experienced in receiving love-sick confessions is the accompanying experience in turning such confessions down. Staying only encourages such nonsense, and Tobirama won’t have that, not before the next mission.

"Shut _up_ , brother,” he snaps after he walks outside the building. Hashirama hasn’t said a thing, but then again, he doesn’t need to - his smug face tells all.

He just wordlessly falls into step with Tobirama, stupid grin wide across his stupid face. They’re halfway to Tobirama’s lab before Hashirama finally speaks. 

“So you’re sure you still want him on this mission?”

Tobirama just scoffs. "Can’t change it now, can we? The whole operation depends on _two_ Hiraishin Masters - and no, a clone doesn’t count.“

Hashirama just chuckles creakily. "Ah, that’s true. Well, maybe he’ll meet someone new on the mission to take his mind off your rejection!”

“Brother,” Tobirama says patiently. "If all goes well, the only person Minato will meet will be Mito’s successor. And I really doubt a girl groomed her whole life to accept a demon into her body is going to take very well to the boy sent specifically to capture her and prevent that from happening.“

"Stranger things have happened!” Hashirama protests.

And the awful part was that Hashirama is absolutely right: stranger things have happened. Hashirama had accidentally spent five years as a tree; Tobirama had to cut five grown men (and one woman) out of the belly of a very upset sea monster - not just once, but _twice_. One of those men had thought it absolutely hilarious to teach two adolescent boys how to contract with two of the great Sage Summons, to an unpredictable effect, and those boys then went on…well, enough said. It was a miracle the village had survived a decade, let alone five.

Nothing, of course, could beat the strange and utterly terrifying sight of Uzumaki Mito leaping through the crowds of Senju gathered to witness the Uchiha submission, brandishing a bloody sword and declaring the treaty void, as the Uchiha were _her_ retainers. Well, that had been a good half-century and more ago, and after all this time, Tobirama was going pay her little stunt back tenfold, with a little surprise visit of his own. Madara was even more defeated than he’d been at that long-ago meeting - he was nothing but a set of eyeballs with too much hair attached these days. Mito herself was much diminished from the days of yore. Her decision to augment her power by sealing the Kyuubi inside herself hadn’t worked out as well as she’d thought, later experiments with the other beasts notwithstanding…

Hashirama is pensive as he stares through the canopy of trees to the glinting blue sky beyond - the exact shade of Minato’s startlingly bright eyes, Tobirama suddenly realizes.

“Do you think they’ll be all right?” he asks quietly, not even looking at Tobirama’s direction. He’s referring to the children, of course.

“I think that all we can do is trust in the future,” Tobirama replies gently. "In the end, that’s all the dead can do.“


	11. #23, Kagami/Tsunade...sorta, "Just once."

“You promised you’d help me,” Tsunade hissed malevolently, like some kind of pint-sized harbinger of doom. She was perched on the spare chair in the office, the one Torifu habitually abused by balancing on one leg when he was bored. 

“I said no such thing,” Kagami murmured idly back, still looking at his papers on the desk in front of him. Tsunade just made an awful face in response and settled down to glare balefully at the side of his head, pudgy hands gripping the chair back in a strong grip. Kagami ignored her cheerfully - he’d had a lot of practice in the six months since Hiruzen had so blithely informed everyone he’d taken a genin team.

“I’m bored,” Tsunade announced loudly. Kagami very carefully didn’t look up. That, of course, was what Tsunade wanted, the blighted little manipulator, and he’d be damned before he let a seven-year-old girl pull his strings that easily. He just focused on the crabbed handwriting before him, trying to reread the illegible sentence one more time. 

“Didn’t you hear me?” she asked stridently. "I’m bored!“

“I heard you,” Kagami said. "I just don’t know what you expect me to do about it. Your teammates are still sparring outside, you could go help them.“

"I don’t like sparring with them,” Tsunade whined. "They’re too easy to beat.“

Kagami carefully reigned in his temper. "Well, they won’t get any better if you won’t help them, Tsunade.”

One beat of silence, then another. 

“I’ll go help them if you’ll do it,” Tsunade cajoled. Kagami didn’t know why he even bothered to be horrified by her cheek and disrespect. This was, after all, the girl the famed God of Shinobi had spoiled rotten. 

“And afterward you’ll help coach the boys?” Kagami queried. 

“I promise on my honor as a Senju!” Tsunade swore.

Kagami nodded solemnly, making a show of hesitating first. “Well, all right then, I’ll do it - but just once!“

And right as he said the last phrase, he snapped his fingers. In the blink of an eye, the office around them disappeared, revealing the sun-dappled trees of training ground three. Kagami’s desk turned into a binder he was balancing precariously on his knees, and Tsunade’s chair was just a particularly gnarled tree root. The girl herself was staring at him with an open mouth, and Kagami took the time to smile at her coldly.

"On your honor as a Senju, right?” he asked mockingly. "Orochimaru and Jiraiya are right where you left them - go over the seventh kata with them, will you?“

Tsunade’s mouth snapped shut, and she slowly stood up and trudged over the boys, still wrestling on the far side of the training ground. Shortly afterward, the tenor of shouting from their area became markedly more panicked and terrified.

Kagami just went back to his report. There really wasn’t anything quite like putting a smart-aleck in their place! Well, except for maybe putting them in their place twice…


	12. #10, Minato/Shikaku, "Teach me how to play?"

In the second half of the fifth year of their generation’s war, Shikaku was assigned to Camp 73 in Grass to serve on the general staff of Namikaze Minato, the newly promoted general of the Second Army and commander of all Leaf force on the western front with Iwa. It was a prestigious promotion for Shikaku, who’d only made full jounin a year before on the battlefield, and given Namikaze’s obvious favor with the Third, good performance there might translate to other benefits off the battlefield - as long as Shikaku survived this war.

It was a shit assignment any other way you looked at it, of course.

“Why do you have to be this way?” Inoichi demanded. His desk in the bowels of T&I was covered in stacks of papers. There was absolutely no discernable organization to them, but Inoichi seemed to know where everything went nonetheless. "You get to hang out with Minato and kill enemy nin with aplomb, you lucky bastard. I’m trapped here at home turning the brains of prisoners to mush and listening to Commander Mitokado bitch about my work ethic…

“You like turning people’s brains into mush,” Shikaku pointed out with a grimace. "And goddamn Namikaze is just unnatural. What kind of person is just so _happy_ all the time?“

"Someone who really likes his job,” Inoichi said with a shrug, marking the sheet in front of him with very sharp, definitive motions. "Which is pretty unusual these days, if the mass surveys we’ve been taking are accurate.“

"And you don’t think that’s strange at all? Even a little?” Shikaku asked. "I mean, it’s nice to actually use my skills more extensively, but I can’t say I enjoy war all that much aside from that. It’s way too much work…“

Inoichi looked up from his papers and glared at him, blue eyes bloodshot in the dim light. "Chouza is still stuck besieging Rain _again_ , so I am going to channel his absent spirit,” he said pompously, and Shikaku sighed.

“OK, hit me,” he said wearily.

“I don’t care if Namikaze is a weirdo, I’m just glad he’s on our side,” Inoichi intoned seriously. It was a terrible imitation of Chouza. "Now get the fuck out and be productive.“

"Ugh, what a drag. Chouza wouldn’t say that.”

* * *

Camp 73 wasn’t a complete dump. It was laid out exactly like the Third’s camp over on the border with Cloud, which was a bit disorienting until Shikaku remembered that Namikaze had been trained by Jiraiya, so as far as he knew, this might just be one of the sacred secrets passed down from the Second Hokage, along with teleportation and raising the dead. 

“I’m glad to see you, Shikaku,” Namikaze said cheerily. "I’m glad command sent a strategist of such high caliber to my duty station. I’m sure we’ll do great work together!“

Shikaku just fixed Namikaze with a disbelieving stare. ”…you formally requested Uzumaki Kushina because she’s _‘real good at making stuff explode’_ ,“ he finally replied. The quote was heavily implied.

"Sure did!” Minato exclaimed. "But I understand that she’s needed at the siege of Rain for an exciting new mission that also features explosions, so I’ll make do with you. I’m sure you have your own unique way of killing lots of people very quickly.“

And this, Shikaku reflected, was exactly why he was so leery of serving with Namikaze Minato. And as soon as he thought that, some kind of commotion broke out on the western edge of the camp. A boy was stumbling in, covered in blood and surrounded by baying dogs. 

"Ah, Kakashi has returned with news, if I’m not mistaken,” Namikaze said with a smile. "A new game is afoot, Shikaku - are you up for it, or too tired from the journey here?“

Shikaku looked at the panting boy, gulping down water from an exhausted medic, and then looked back at Namikaze, who was still smiling expectantly as Shikaku. Back to the scout, who now had some kind of Uchiha chuunin hovering around shouting about something, and then back to Namikaze, still with that eerie smile. Well, when in Uzushio, do as the Uzu-nin do, right? 

"Teach me how to play?” he asked lazily, stepping closer to the other man.

“The rules are simple,” Namikaze said with a chuckle. "I’m sure a genius like you will catch on quickly. You must kill as many people as possible, as quickly as possible - and if you do it as part of a team, your kill points are multiplied by however many teammates you have. Got it?“

Shikaku made a wave in the barest direction of saluting. "I got the gist of it.”  
With an abrupt motion, Namikaze’s face was right next to Shikaku’s own, the other man’s right arm tight around his waist. 

“Good,” he said mildly, smile falling off his face as a predatory look came into his eyes. "I look forward to seeing how many points we’ll earn together.“

And in the blink of an eye, they were gone.


	13. #8, Madara&Tsunade, "Wanna bet?"

A day later, and the Uzumaki boy had finally stopped sniveling and gone limp - passed out from dehydration from all his crying, no doubt. The boy’s weakness of character was yet another sign of Hashirama’s perversion of their shared dream. Madara despaired over the new generations, progressively weaker than each one before, and if it weren’t for the paucity of Uzumaki or Senju elsewhere on the continent, he’d been tempted to throw this one back and get one with a little more fight in him.

But no. Searching for a proper host to develop Izuna’s eyes had taken too long as it was; Madara could not waste any more time looking for more survivors of a dead Clan.

As it was, it had been providence to find a red-haired family with a young son on the old road down-country, and Madara has seized it before it flew him by, killing the parents and older sisters in a few efficient motions before scooping the boy up and returning whence he came. Hanzo’s city was being besieged by the Leaf, and there would be doctors aplenty there for the operation. 

They wouldn’t want to assist him. That was all right. Madara could be very persuasive.

* * *

By moonrise, Madara had reached the rear encampments of the siege, it was a mismatched muddle of driftwood shacks, canvas tents, and campfires with tarps strung up to protect from the rain. Madara disguised himself as just another old, half-dead nin and squelched through the camp, the Uzumaki boy still slung over his shoulder. It was still more difficult than it should have been to find the field hospital. None of the sentries paid him any mind. They weren’t paying anything any mind, eyes staring into the misty horizon with a bleak apathy Madara knew all too well. 

It was the face traitors wore, right before they broke in battle.

Eventually, Madara found a complex of long tents. Closer inspection showed them filled with rows of beds for the dying, men with white robes ministering to them. Madara considered grabbing one of them, but there was always the risk they might put up a bit of a fight. Not a lot, truthfully, but young men were still a bit…excitable.

But then serendipity touched him once again: Madara caught sight of a bare chit of a girl cleaning up knives outside a surgery tent. Prime location, prime time, and if she couldn’t help him, he could dispose of her quickly and get a man in to finish the job. He impatiently waited a moment until she slipped back into the tent, and quickly followed after.

* * *

“What do you want?” the girl said brazenly, not even bothering to turn and look at him like a _proper_ young lady. Madara felt his eyes twitch at the disrespect. 

“I need you to perform a full eye transplant,” he replied, just as bluntly, and laid the Uzumaki boy on the table.

“This boy is alive,” the girl said dismissively. Her honey-blonde hair was short - it barely came to her shoulder-blades, even loose as it was. “If you need a donor, there’s plenty of corpses about - put your name on the list out front and we’ll schedule you in a few days time.”

“You misunderstand me,” Madara said. "I need you to put my eyes into his eye sockets.“

At this, the girl turned around and looked - but not at Madara. Instead, she looked at the boy, giving him a brief, thorough inspection, finishing with looking at his eyes underneath his closed eyelids. 

"There’s nothing wrong with this boy that some rest won’t cure,” she said irritably. "Don’t be so melodramatic. Just take him down to the mess tents, they’re always looking for boys to hire down there.“

"You are still misunderstanding me,” Madara growled. "You _will_ transplant my eyes into him.“

"Oh, I will, _will_ I?” the silly chit said, clenching her fists. Good. Maybe the dullard was beginning to grasp what Madara was telling her. "I’d like to see you make me.“

Or maybe not.

"If you don’t assist me, I’ll just kill you and find another doctor to help me,” Madara said, make sure to enunciate clearly. "A little thing like you, it wouldn’t be hard.“

Almost before Madara finished his sentence, he felt a lightning-quick surge of killer intent. Only his reflexes saved him from death - a substitution with an instrument cart saw Madara on the other side of the tent, and the cart turned into so many matchsticks.

"You know, you talk pretty big, but I think I can still beat you with one hand,” the girl said cheerfully. The Uzumaki boy was cradled in her right arm; her left was still clenched into a strong fist. For the first time since he’d seen her figure from afar, Madara looked upon the face of his unwilling accomplice; for the first time in decades, Madara saw Senju eyes in an otherwise unremarkable face. “Wanna bet?”

Madara just looked at her in disbelief. _Surely_ Hashirama hadn’t had a child, _surely_ the Kyuubi would have prevented that possibility-

And then something like the Uzumaki witch’s awful seal came alight on the girl’s noble brow, and things…

…well, things got _difficult_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP Madara.


End file.
